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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24850066">Baba Will Love You With All of His Heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anam_Writes/pseuds/Anam_Writes'>Anam_Writes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the west wind crawled home, through the mountains [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Baby Claude von Riegan, Baby bath time which I only retrospectively realize I should have added bubbles to, Father's Day, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:01:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,253</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24850066</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anam_Writes/pseuds/Anam_Writes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rahim Al-Kir, King of Almyra, has very important business this afternoon. </p><p>(That business is giving his infant son, Khalid, a bath.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the west wind crawled home, through the mountains [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1797730</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>71</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Baba Will Love You With All of His Heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was a ritual more sacred than any he ever performed. It made Rahim's heart race just to think of it. </p><p>He washed his hands, scrubbed them until brown skin burned a raw shade of red and white palms flared pink. He imagined blood running from his hands - every drop he ever spilled - with all the dead skin and grime into the washing pot. It made him feel more worthy of the task. He checked his fingertips over for any clinging dirt and to ensure his nails were short and rounded. If they were not, he grabbed his file and his buff, working at them until they were. </p><p>Khalid usually squealed through the process. He was as loud as his mother and liked being ignored about as much. Even lying in a nest of plush blankets in his bassinet or his father turning his head to smile and to coo at him every once in a while, did not help his mood. </p><p>A wailing screech ripped from his throat when his father looked away a moment to pick a piece of rock out from under his nail. </p><p>"My poor boy," he chuckled. "Your life is so difficult." </p><p>Another squeal - less guttural than the last, higher in pitch and perhaps a little pleased at having achieved a response - rose from Khalid. </p><p>When Rahim was sure his hands were clean he patted them dry. He pushed aside the one hot washing basin, filled with dirty water, and pulled one aglow with Almyran runes from further along the counter to face him. Though he knew the earthen magic that hummed and shone with life carved into the rune would do their work. He knew they would keep the water a perfect warm temperature that would not boil or burn. He checked anyhow. He could not help but check. His fingers submerged in the pleasant warmth and he gave his son an approving nod. </p><p>"This will do for a princely bath, won't it?" He asked. </p><p>Khalid only squealed once more. </p><p>"So picky," he smiled, tapping the baby's nose with a wet finger. </p><p>He extracted Khalid from the cozy bassinet and cooed back to him when his son made his happy sounds. </p><p>An attention seeker, he was. Soft and always wanting for affection from his Baba or Maman. Rahim knew one day he'd have to be stricter, harsher. He'd have to withhold for the sake of Khalid's strength. He could not afford to be less than the greatest and strongest amongst his peers. Rahim felt he had been selfish, having him even as he understood that reality. But that day could rot somewhere in the shapeless future. Today, Khalid would be spoiled. </p><p>"I heard you got tummy time in the garden today," Rahim said. He balanced Khalid over the length of one arm, easing him towards the water. Before his tiny body could be dipped in, Rahim scooped up water with his free hand to spread over Khalid's belly. The baby wiggled but seemed otherwise pleased. "Was that fun?"</p><p>Another squeal. He did like to do that. It made Rahim imagine he'd grow to talk ears off. He smiled. </p><p>"That so? Well, I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," Rahim smiled. "Maybe tomorrow we'll all be able to go. We can have a picnic. Wouldn't that be nice?"</p><p>Khalid kicked his legs a little, ankles hitting the water. Droplets splashed up and Rahim laughed when he felt them catch on his beard. </p><p>"So excitable today," he said. "An excitable little spitfire, just like your Maman."</p><p>Rahim lowered Khalid slightly more. He gave him a second to adjust to the warmth submerging his back before pouring another scoop of water through thick curly hair. </p><p>He loved Khalid's hair. He had marvelled at how much there was of it when he was born. </p><p>"Some babies are just like that," the midwife had said when he asked later. "You were bald as a glass bowl when I delivered you. Old talk says thick hair on a babe is good fortune though; means they're meant for greatness."</p><p>Greatness was a far away thing. He knew he, as King, should hope for that for his heir. In all honesty, Rahim could not care less. </p><p>He began his poem. </p><p>"As long as you're fed.<br/>
As long as there's bread.<br/>
As long as you bounce<br/>
All over the house. </p><p>My sweet, happy boy.<br/>
It's safety and joy<br/>
I wish there to be<br/>
For you and for me."</p><p>He could guess easily what Khalid would do. He joined in with a squeal of his own, the sound catching the baby off guard halfway through the sound breaking past his lips. </p><p>"That's right, Baba can make noise too," he laughed.</p><p>His son only stared in a wide-eyed, curious blink. Then, with all the force his brow could muster, Khalid creased his face into something like irritation. Or concentration? </p><p>Khalid's hand reached up and Rahim took the chance, while he was distracted with reaching for the braided tip of his father's beard, to spread warm water over his arm and up to the tips of his fingers. </p><p>"Tricky, tricky, trying to pull Baba's braid again," he said. "We'll have to watch out for you. I can already tell you'll be a terror, hmm?"</p><p>When the baby was soaked Rahim reached back to the counter to grab a handful of oily balm. It was made with clay and with honey and cleaned the skin as much as it managed to condition. </p><p>"You're going to be much less stinky after this," he told Khalid. "I mean no offense, but princes should not smell like the garden fertilizer." </p><p>Khalid grumbled as he once more tried to grasp at his father's braid but missed with the spasming of still uncontrollable fingers. </p><p>"I suppose that was rather offensive anyways, you're right," Rahim nodded. "But that doesn't matter; it's true. True things ought to be said, you know."</p><p>A sputtering came and then a bubble was blown and popped over Khalid's lips as quickly as it appeared.</p><p>"I'm glad we understand each other," Rahim nodded. "I think we're almost done."</p><p>It was with a little sadness that Rahim cleansed his baby of the oily balm. It was a slow and measured act to dry him as well. </p><p>Bath time was his task. It was the one thing he could reliably leave his courtiers and generals to do. They had all learned not to stand between the King and the blocked off quality time he had with the prince. It had been a hard lesson that Tiana had taught them swiftly and without mercy. She was not afraid to play the villain and even less afraid to assimilate to the court’s favourite way of sending a message. She only had to punch the Minister of Finance in the gut once for that message to be received. Bath time was never disrupted, or questioned, again. </p><p>He held Khalid, dried off and soft, to him. He was wrapped up in a fresh cloth and his hair smelled like honey. Rahim allowed himself to sigh at the weight of the baby's head on his shoulder. </p><p>He could not think what to do but recite another of Khalid's favourite little rhymes. He walked, baby resting and gurgling in his arms, out of the private baths of the family wing. </p><p>"Bright flies the arrow.<br/>
Bright lands the star.<br/>
Warm glows the sunshine.<br/>
Warm are my arms. </p><p>Wherever you go,<br/>
No matter how far,<br/>
Baba will love you<br/>
With all of his heart."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy Father's day to all you Dads, Renties and children of Dads and Renties out there celebrating! </p><p>There wasn't enough baby Khalid or soft King Baba out there so I made it instead.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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